


An Ever-Fixed Mark

by ama



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shakespeare Quotations, Sleepy Cuddles, Trying to seduce your boyfriend with Shakespeare like a nerd, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: It's a beautiful Saturday morning in Mobile, and for now, at least, they've got nowhere to be but right here.





	An Ever-Fixed Mark

Eugene Sledge was a good-looking man all of the time, but as Leckie peered down at him, he came to the conclusion that he looked best when he was asleep. There was something tremendously appealing about the slight flush that colored his cheek and his parted lips. Not to mention the dramatic contrast of colors: his pale skin against the white pillow with that shock of vibrant red hair and the surprising darkness of his brows and his eyelashes.

If Leckie were either more talented or stupider, he thought with a grin, he would try to write something about it. But outside of battle hymns, his verse was, frankly, terrible, so he limited himself to private observations.

“Are you looking at me?” Sledge asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“No,” Leckie lied shamelessly, but he was caught out when Eugene rolled onto his back and peered up at him.

“Liar,” he pronounced. He closed his eyes and settled back among the blankets, inching just a little bit closer to the warmth of Leckie’s body. “What’re you thinking?” he asked with a content sigh.

Leckie’s finger was drawing abstract patterns on the blanket, but he reached up to trace the curve of the other man’s cheek instead. His skin was so warm.

“Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle’s compass come,” he quoted, and Sledge groaned and pulled the covers over his head.

“Oh no, come on sweetheart, it’s too early for Shakespeare.”

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom,” he continued, and Sledge yanked the blankets down with a huff.

“Oh _that’s_ pleasant.”

“If this be error, and upon me proved…” Leckie bent down to touch a tender kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder, and murmured the last line against his clavicle. “I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.”

When he pulled back, Eugene was smiling to himself, his eyelashes dark against his cheek.

“I was talking to Chuckler on the phone the other day,” he said conversationally. “He said you used to recite Homer to those guys.”

“Mm. Pope’s translation; it’s a good one.”

“So I s’pose I can’t complain. I like Shakespeare better.”

“I like _you_ better,” Leckie said with the roguish grin that had once proved very effective with nurses and Australians. There was a wry note to Eugene’s answering smile that suggested he wasn’t quite buying it, but he let out no complaint as Leckie bent down again to bestow upon him a very thorough good-morning kiss. “Why were you talking to Chuckler?” he asked when he drew back, and his ego was gratified by the fact that it took Eugene a few moments to collect himself.

“Hm? Oh. It was last Thursday, when he called for you while you were in the shower. Why, does it matter?”

“It matters very much,” Leckie said in a serious voice. Sledge laughed.

“Why?”

“Because Chuckler is my most handsome friend and I really don’t want you talking to him.”

“I thought Hoosier was your handsome friend.”

“He’s not bad, but we all know Chuckler’s the real dish. We just say it’s Hoosier so Chuckler’s head doesn’t get any more swollen than it already is.”

“You know, you’re not half bad yourself. I really don’t think you’ve got all that much to worry about.”

“Thank you,” Leckie whispered.

They didn’t speak for a while after that, at least not until Leckie began to run his hand up Eugene’s thigh and the other man wiggled away.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised. “Too early.” He flopped back on the pillow and draped his arm around Leckie’s neck, and his eyes fluttered shut. “C’mon, Lucky, it’s Saturday. No class, no work, no bugler. Let’s just sleep in for a bit.”

“It’s almost ten already,” Leckie frowned. Usually Eugene was up by eight on the weekends; he woke up early for class during the week, and found it was a hard habit to break. “Are you still tired?”

“Mm, a little.”

Leckie was quiet for a minute. He let Eugene cuddle close and ran a hand up and down his back, and only spoke when he knew he could adopt a properly casual tone.

“I didn’t wake you up at all, did I?”

God damn it. Eugene jerked back instantly and a frown creased his forehead. Leckie sighed.

“Why, did you have any nightmares?” Sledge said in a low voice.

“Not that I remember,” Leckie hedged.

He stared up at the ceiling and admired the way the light of the sun played against the whitewash. He was wondering what trick of the glass made the sunbeams look like that, translucent almost, when he felt Eugene’s hand on his cheek and he sighed. Screaming nightmares. Of all the things they had in common, why did nightmares seem to take up the most space? They were getting better, over time, but at least three times a month one of them would be woken by the other thrashing around in the sheets.

The first time Leckie had woken Eugene during the middle of one, because he couldn’t fucking stand it, Eugene had thanked him and apologized. _I didn’t mean to bother you_ , he had said. _Just—just wake me up, okay, so I don’t keep you awake_. He had tried to stand, to go sleep on the couch, as if Leckie was going to let him walk away when he was gasping for breath and trying to swallow his tears. He had ended up sobbing into Leckie’s shoulder, and that was what had cemented Leckie’s decision to move to Mobile full-time. That night, with Eugene shaking in his arms, he had remembered back to the first time they had met, when Sledge was just a fresh-faced boot in clean dungarees, unable to hide his delight when Sid said _Lucky’s got a regular lending library running out of his tent if you need something to pass the time_. He had known then that he couldn’t walk away.

Leckie never cried. He just curled around his pillow or in Eugene’s lap and stared at the wall while Eugene played with his hair, and waited until they both fell asleep again. If he could fall asleep again.

“I woke up early and I couldn’t get back to sleep,” he admitted. “That usually means… but like I said, I don’t remember. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like this is something we just pass back and forth. Like the only reason I had a bad night is because you skipped your turn.”

He kissed Eugene on the forehead and collapsed back on the pillows, deliberately closing his eyes. He was half expecting Sledge to push, but he only laid down at Leckie’s side.

“How long have you been up?” he asked.

“Since about… oh, I don’t know, four o’clock?”

“Six hours? Well what have you been doing all morning?”

“I made some coffee,” Leckie said, rubbing his eyes. “Wrote up some of my notes… the paper came at six… then I came in and stared at you for a while.”

“What, did I have something on my face?” Eugene joked. Leckie turned his head to the side and they smiled at each other stupidly for a minute. Then Eugene sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position. “All right, come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want. If you’ve been doing nothing but waiting for me for six hours, I can’t ask you to stay in bed any longer. What’s the plan?”

“I thought we could go out for breakfast,” Leckie suggested. He sat up, too, and watched as Eugene stripped off his pajamas and began to get dressed. There was something about the mornings that he loved—the comfortable domesticity of getting ready for the day in each other’s presence. “Do you have any work that needs to get done?”

“Forget it,” Eugene shrugged. He slipped his arms into a white collared shirt and began to button it, sleeves gaping open at the cuffs. “It’s Saturday. I want to spend the day with you.”

“Okay,” Leckie agreed, successfully hiding the fact that he was preening inside. “Then why don’t we take a walk through the woods? It’s supposed to rain tomorrow but today looks good, and the leaves are turning. It’ll never beat New York, but…”

“Don’t push it,” the Southern boy threatened. Leckie grinned.

“Then tonight it’s Baker vs Wright Prep, so I’ve got to cover that. You coming along?”

“Oh yeah,” Eugene perked up. “Yeah, should be a good game. Why don’t I ring up Sid and Mary and see if they want to join us?”

“The more the merrier.”

Gene pulled a brown sweater out of the dresser and slipped it over his head, and Leckie bit his lip to keep from grinning. Eugene was always swimming in his clothes. At first he had assumed it was a Marine Corps thing—lots of guys lost weight on those rations, and the standard-issue clothes never fit just right—but he had since seen enough photographs to know this was a chronic condition. He found it charming.

“What is it now?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, trying to regain some aloofness only to find himself struck by the graceful way Eugene swept his hair off his face. Maybe he had been wrong; maybe Eugene was more good-looking when he was awake. “I love you.”

Sledge glanced at him, and for a moment his face softened. Then he feigned nonchalance and looked down as he buckled his watch.

“Oh, well if that’s all. I love you, too.” His arm dropped to his side and he stood at the foot of the bed, fully dressed except for his shoes. “What about this afternoon?” he asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Breakfast, walk, football… unless we’re going on a hike, that leaves about three hours with nothing to do.”

“Oh, I have plans for those hours,” Leckie assured him, and Eugene sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do,” he purred. He leaned closer until their lips were a millimeter apart, so close he could feel the movement as Eugene opened his mouth… and then at the last moment he bent his head to the side and kissed the soft skin behind his ear instead, nuzzling at his neck until he was sighing.

“Does it…” Eugene swallowed, and Leckie drew back. “Does it involve dirty poetry?”

Their eyes met. A laugh bubbled up and suddenly Leckie was cracking up, his shoulders quivering with laughter. Eugene smiled broadly and let out a few giggles, too, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Leckie shook his head and kissed Sledge’s cheek.

“For you, darling, always,” he said, and he got up to dress for the day.


End file.
